


Captured and Broadcast

by redlionspride



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Claustrophobia, Community: tfa_kink, Dehydration, Gen, Gratuitous Torture, Kink Meme, Mental Breakdown, Mental Torture, Multiple Guest Characters, Physical Abuse, Sensory Deprivation, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Torture, Trio Ship but can be read without it, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlionspride/pseuds/redlionspride
Summary: Poe is captured by the First Order and used as a new tool against the Resistance. He's placed on around the clock surveillance and broadcast to the entire universe. When the Resistance learns that Poe is still alive but being mentally tortured they do everything they can to rescue him, but is it too late? Does the First Order's plan work for them or against them? Can Poe survive weeks of torture at the hands of anyone controlling a deprivation room?





	Captured and Broadcast

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was started back in December of 2015, so there are a lot of points that changed drastically. I had to go back and change some names, and such. Not only that but I've picked it up and set it down so many times that the writing style might have changed a bit. And in the end you can tell where I just started up again by the fact that characters from Rebels might have tiny appearances? 
> 
> The point here is... 
> 
> It's old. It's long. I want it out of my fic logs! 
> 
> THIS IS UN-BETA, NOT EDITED, RAW. Mostly I just want to get it out there and be done with it. I apologize for the mess but maybe someone out there will enjoy it. 
> 
> This was for tfa_kinkmeme posted from Prompt One, forever ago!   
> https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=760634#cmt760634

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Poe gave the Stormtrooper a cocky smile as he was shoved forward off the shuttle and into a larger hangar bay. “Honestly, if you wanted to meet up again you could have just called. No reason to go to all this trouble.” 

“Does he ever shut up?” One trooper said to another, they both hooked hands on his arms and started shoving him forward to walk. 

“Oh. Wait. Damn. You’re not him. Sorry. You all look alike to me, you know, with those dumb white helmets and armor. Ever thought of a new line? Maybe gems or those cheap plastic little stones for little girls. You know the kind that tack on with ease--oof” 

The trooper on the left jabbed it’s weapon into his gut, getting him to shut up for a moment. The trooper on the right actually was heard sighing, “peace at last.” 

Handed off to another set of Stormtroopers, Poe was starting to get used to this kind of prisoner treatment at the hands of the First Order. His smart ass comments kept coming until they moved him to an interrogation room, locked him to a table and leaned him back a bit. 

They left him there for nearly twelve hours before anyone showed up again. At first he thought it would be Kylo Ren, here to taunt him again, to rip the information out of his head again. That interrogation still brought him nightmares. Still made him uncomfortable to talk about it and it wasn’t something he had mentioned to the others at all. Finn knew that Ren had done interrogation, and had found him in a pretty bad way, but even then he didn’t know the extent of it. 

To make those matters worse, he actually knew Ben Organa-Solo when they were younger, before he got sent away to train. Poe might not have been ‘close’ but he liked to think they had been friends. Even just a little bit, so knowing who Kylo Ren was? It didn’t make any of it better.

This time it wasn’t a map that he was hiding though. It was information on the new Location of the Resistance. Information on the plans they found about the First Order. Information that could put a stop to the First Order once and for all. And, on a personal note, Information for the General… about Ben. 

It was a lot that needed to get back to the General and the Resistance, and Poe knew too much ON the Resistance. He was a walking spoiler and one he didn’t want the First Order to know. So of course he’d be interrogated. Why wouldn’t he be? After all… they killed everyone else. He was all they had left to force information out of. 

The group he was flying with consisted of four X-wings and a pair of freighters with full crew on board. They got what they needed, but while on planet something went wrong. He felt like someone turned them in or gave them up. Someone found out. Freighter one was taken out in a blink, killing the six people on board before it could even take off. 

His X-wing pilots were all scrambling for their fighters. They would be helpless on the ground but in the air they’d be able to get their numbers together. Poe remembered the other ship taking off. The Falcon and her crew. He remembers hearing an explosion and Jessika scream. 

He remembers the feeling of nearly crashing into his X-wing, yelling at BB-8 to hurry up, and then the heat of fire. He woke up once to see the wreckage, his head spinning. His world crashing and burning before him. Before he could really catalog what the hell just happened he was grabbed by a pair of stormtroopers and knocked in the head with the butt of a rifle. 

For the last twelve hours that was all he could think about. He was trying to list in his mind what he saw. Shattered x-wings, broken and on fire. the one freighter for sure. He was worried the Falcon was part of the wreckage as well, but he had no idea in his mind if it was or not. 

He really did think that Kylo Ren would be the one to come in and face him first. Go right to the punch and instead of trying to break him in normal ways, use the force to rip through his head again. Instead it was simply a stormtrooper. 

“Hey there handsome. You wouldn’t happen to be Finn in there, about to bust me out, huh?” He said in a flat tone, head lulled a bit to look at the white armor before him. The Trooper waved to another one, who came in and unshackled him from the table and threw new shackles on his hands. 

“Get him to cell block F2-27-A.” the trooper said, and waved the blaster to indicate that Poe should start walking. 

“Oh. Not Finn. I take back the handsome comment then.” And he got shoved in the back for his efforts. 

He doesn’t even know if Finn was alive. That thought has him silent the rest of the walk. 

They walked him through hallway to hallway, and in the back of his mind he hoped that there would be a side trip to a TIE fighter again. That would be nice. That would be too nice. His luck wouldn’t be that nice to him, would it? 

Oh well. He’s gotten out of tighter situations, right? 

Maybe. 

This time they took him to a cell. Perhaps they were going to keep him for a while. To wait for some higher up to come and grill him. Perhaps they’d use him as a prisoner of war, and flag down General Organa to try and lure her out. He laughs at that thought, because he’s sure she wouldn’t be that stupid. To deal with demands for ransom. 

The Resistance won't be bullied. 

The Resistance won't negotiate with the First Order. 

His life wasn't that important and he knew it going into EVERY mission.

There was a small side of him, hidden deep down that worried that they would try to rescue him, or more that they would give into some foolish demand. That his moment of trouble might ruin everything, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t go down that way. One life did not make it okay to ruin so many others. He was sure it wouldn’t come down to something like that. 

The cell door was solid with no bars, though there was a single sliding panel in the middle of it. Not!Finn Trooper opened the door, while No Nonsense Trooper shoved him into the dark room with a force that actually made him stumble and drop to the floor. He braced himself as best as he could with shackles on, hands expecting to hit something hard and cold, only to hit something padded. 

Rolling over he intended to hit ground and get back to standing, to facing his captors, but as he moved his back side hit a wall, padded as well. Moving to lean into it he made to push himself up again, only to find a stormtrooper leaning over him. 

A punch was given to the face, knocking his head back and laid him out flat onto the soft ground. The shackles were removed. Before he could manage to get up, he heard the door shut, not with a clink or slam, but with a soft whoosh of an air lock seal. His ears popped a bit at first, realizing it was air tight in here. 

Poe found himself in pitch dark. His hands came out to either side, tracing one wall to the door. he found if he stretched his other arm out, he could reach the other wall palm to palm and his elbows bent he realized how thin the room was, both sides padded fairly well. 

“They put me in a padded cell. Great.” his voice felt like it was barely there. Like the room itself dampened sound. 

\---

In a control room of the _Finalizer_ , General Hux stood over several technicians, watching them work. He stayed silent, watching each of them in turn. Suddenly one woman sat up straighter, turned her chair back to face him and spoke. 

“Sir. Contact from base one has confirmation of transmission lock. All twelve sectors are ready and on stand by. Awaiting your orders, sir.” 

General Hux smile pulled across his features like a knife across a neck, slowing splitting his lips apart to show a flash of gleaming teeth. “Very good. I’ve been told the prisoner is in position.” 

“Yes sir. Feed to cell block F2 Room 27A is locked down with prisoner inside.” 

“Start the galactic interruption.” The General said and moved to turn to a monitor, hands behind his rigid back and a smug look on his face. This plan is not his exactly, but he has interest in how it was going to work out. A chance to take over standard air waves, holo broadcast, data streams and information highways. A chance to display one of the Resistance’s very own commanders. A poster boy for the Resistance itself. 

A way to help crush, slowly, the moral of those aligned with the Resistance. 

It wasn’t a grand plan. It wasn’t foolproof either. But while they had a lot to rebuild, this little plan was enough to at least be a pain in the Resistance’s side. A bit of revenge, and he felt it seemed to be. 

And watching that arrogant pilot suffer was an added bonus. 

On the screen before it was a blank blank black space. Words in yellow streamed across in basic, announcing the takeover. Announcing that this was a message to the Resistance and those who aligned to it. A message to anyone who resisted the First Order. 

Suddenly the screen was flooded with light. Hux smiled as the confusion on the man’s face was clear. Yes, this would be interesting, to say the least. 

\---

Poe Dameron paced. He found he could take four steps from door to back wall, meaning this was a short narrow room. All padded. All very dark. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the room, though he tried to keep track of time by counting silently in his head. It was something to do, and after a while of pacing he found himself settled in at a corner, silent and mentally counting.

He kept losing count though, and he couldn’t remember how many minutes or hours he counted, but it had been a while. He decided he had to have been there for at least twenty hours. On the ship at least, not this cell. 

That was when the lights suddenly came on. There were two in the room, up in the ceiling. The ceiling was tall, unreachable by simply standing. He looked up at it, squinting, raising an arm to shield from the light. He felt as if he had been in the dark long enough that the light was uncomfortable, but he would adjust. 

Sliding up the wall to stand, he peeked around the cell. 

Narrow, yes. 

Padded, indeed. 

One door, no windows, no handle, no way out. The door was also padded. 

They had left him in his boots, pants, belt, shirt and jacket; an inventory that Poe managed to run through his mind before this. An inventory that lacked anything of use that had once been on his person before this. Of course they would clear him of his things. 

He lost so many nice pocket knives by being captured and escaping without them. 

Having got a good look at the room he looked up, seeing the lights but also a red flashing light. A black lens appeared to be tucked away in the ceiling. A down angle view towards him. It no doubt covered the entire cell. 

Squinting at it, he watched for a moment. Realized it was a camera… and promptly made a very rude hand gesture towards it.

A moment after that he moved back to his corner, sliding down the wall and resting his arms on bent knees, eyes focused on the door with a glare. He sat there and stared for some time, having no idea exactly how he was being recorded. 

\---

General Organa sat gravely at her desk, staring over reports given to her from her last group mission. So many died. It was a great loss. At the moment she was staring at one name, trying to reason with herself that there wasn’t anything any of them could have done. 

She just couldn’t believe that Poe Dameron was gone as well as the others. 

A knock came to her door, pulling her attention away from the monitor before her. “Enter.” Her voice said a bit softer than she had intended. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. Ready for whatever this new interruption was.

“General…” A young blond Lieutenant said as she entered. Kaydel Ko Connix, a junior controller for the Resistance and someone Leia had taken fondly too when communicating. “There’s something going on.” 

The General raised a brow as she watched the girl walk swiftly into the room, down along the war table and to the end that the General was using as a desk. “There is a lot going on, Lieutenant. Perhaps a bit more information would help.” 

Connix nodded her head once, hair twisted up into two tight little buns on either side. She came in past the desk and pointed to the screen on the wall behind the General. “Please, ma’am, if I may?” And she did anyhow, turning the monitor on and stepping back. 

Leia felt her breath draw in swiftly, eyes widened as she looked to the screen. A white room. A padded cell. A man with dark hair crouched down in the corner. 

“Dameron…” her voice was barely a whisper on a breath, staring at the image a moment longer, to try and understand what she was seeing. Poe Dameron, in a padded cell, on her screen? “Where is this coming from?” The General spoke once more, firm, strong, and in demand for information. 

Connix moved forward to her side, offering her a data pad and a worried look. “We have no idea, General. It’s on every screen and every channel. No matter what we change it to, it’s the same footage.” She drew back and looked at the screen again, frowning but still speaking. “We have our people looking into it now. Our best educated guess would be the First Order.” 

“No doubt.” Leia said darkly, looking over how little data they had before looking at the screen. “When did this--”

The door to the General’s room opened suddenly, almost at a crash. As she turned to look at who had the nerve to intrude on her right this instant she saw two frantic looking beings. 

Finn came crashing through first, wide eyed and winded, like he had ran here. He stumbled to a stop, nearly running into the other end of the war table and pulled on his leather coat to get it fixed and proper. In a huffed breath he called out in a loud and breathless voice. “Poe’s alive!” 

“I see that.” Leia said in a flat tone, but calm. 

The other figure that was on Finn’s heels was Rey, coming in at such speed as well that she had ran right into Finn’s shoulder, hand resting on the others back, wide eyes looking right to the General. “It’s on every channel!” 

“So I’ve just been told.” The General said, though a bit softer. She was standing now, but turned to look at the monitor once more. Looking at her Pilot, seated there in a corner. 

“We have to _do_ something!” Rey insisted, and both she and Finn were rounding either side of the round battle table to come to the General’s desk, looking at the large monitor and their friend on the screen. 

Leia just nodded, unable to say what it was they needed to do yet. She needed more information. A location. And how far this was being broadcast. How did they know to send it here? She looked over the information to find that as it updated, they were finding the broadcast was being sent… everywhere. Mostly to major Core Planets, Mid Rim planets and some Outer Rim planets. 

“We shouldn’t have left…” Finn said gravely, his voice distance as he stared at the monitor. 

“We should have looked harder…” Rey said with just the same amount of disbelieving distance in her voice as Finn. 

“You did what you could.” Leia said softly between the four of them in the room. “If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have got Pava and Wexley back.” 

“And BB-8.” Rey added, because she felt he was important as well. An important part of their piloting crew. 

“I thought…” Finn started, looking like he couldn’t breath. He sucked in a breath and tried again. “I thought his X-wing was… it was toast.” 

“By time we lost our tail and got turned around it was chaos. BB-8 said he didn’t reach the X-wing in time, which was the only reason he was spared.” Rey added heavily. The small droid had put himself in low power mode ever since they got back, so sure that Poe had been blown up in the explosion. Rey’s heart hurt for the little droid as well as the loss of her friend. 

In reports, the group of them had managed to get the information down for the General. The Falcon had gotten off the ground with no issues. The other freighter had been lost to start, and one of the X-wings and it’s pilot were lost right away. Snap Wexley managed to get off the ground but with some damage to his X-wing, and took out a few Walkers to help even things out. Jess Pava’s X-wing had been taken out just before she could reach it. 

Jessika reported that she watched Poe’s ship go down, and explosion that knocked her back as well. By time she got up to search for him, she could hear troops coming. A whistle helped her find BB-8. Both of them hunted for their two pilot friends, but blasts from the troopers sent her and the droid running. 

The Falcon managed to swing back and pick the pilot and droid up before getting caught up in another fight. Some klicks away they found Wexley’s downed X-wing and got him and his droid on board as well. Both BB-8 and Pava reported being unable to find either pilot, and with the size and explosiveness of both snubfighers having been blown up, it was likely there was nothing TO find. 

“I can’t tell if Jessika is going to be mad that she didn’t find him first, or happy that he’s still alive.” Rey said softly, thinking of both the female pilot as well as the droid, both of which tried and couldn’t find their fallen companions. 

“It looks like he survived the blast, though he took a good beating from it.” Connix pointed out in a soft voice, pointing to the screen. “His coat and pants show signs of fire. His left leg looks as if he’s got a burn.” 

“The side of his face as well.” Leia pointed out in her own observation. “They haven’t taken care of any of it. Who knows how much of that is also interrogation.” 

“Look…” Finn said and moved in closer to the screen, his eyes narrowed as he leaned in to get a better look. 

Running a finger over the screen he paused, taking in the dimensions. “That’s … that’s an isolation room.” the ex-stormtrooper said with a sinking tone of dread. “About four foot wide, maybe seven foot long. Padded thick, partly to keep the prisoner safe, but also to help dull sound. They’re air locked, climate controlled and leave the prisoner at the mercy of whichever guard is on duty at the time.” 

“That’s terrible.” Rey said with a sharp glance to Finn in surprise. 

“Hey, not my department. I was never stationed there. I just… know about it, is all.” He said almost defensively. “This… isn’t a good place to land. This is where they put people they intend to… to… I don’t know, mess with. A slower form of interrogation. I’ve never heard of them broadcasting it thought.” 

The General moved to take a seat now, leaning back to watch her pilot on the screen. “This is a message to the Resistance. They’re showing off their power. Torturing someone they find important to us. This is a slap to the face and a taunt.” 

“We have to do something!” Rey said once again, looking ready to jump into action as it was. Training with Master Skywalker could wait. There were important things they needed to do, like get Poe back and blow the hell out of that ship. 

“That’s what they want us to do.” To go do something. 

“We can’t just leave him there!” Finn said in protest now. Shock on his face as he turned to look at the general. 

“Lieutenant. Get me confirmation on the location of this feed.” Leia said instead of addressing the kids. 

“It’s the _Finalizer_. It has to be.” Finn said strongly now. “Those isolation units were a specialty of General Hux in his personal detention playground. Unless they implemented them elsewhere, then that has to be the _Finalizer_!” 

Leia looked to him sternly after that. “Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that they have not implemented them elsewhere? That this has to be the _Finalizer_? Or, for that matter, can you tell me where the _Finalizer_ is? We’ve been unable to find it’s location at the moment. Have you an idea?” 

She didn’t mean to sound so belittling, but her frustration was starting to show. 

“N-no ma’am. Not with one hundred percent certainty.” Finn said now, head bowed and understanding what she was saying. Even if it was the _Finalizer_ they have no idea where the ship is at. And even then they don’t know if he’s on it. They can’t go swooping in, attack, infiltrate, and find that he’s not even there. 

“Then… Lieutenant? I need a location.” She said, looking at Connix once again. “For the video feed, as well as the _Finalizer_. Get someone working on that.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” The blonde communicator said, bowing her head before starting off swiftly out of the room. 

Finn stood near by, staring at the monitor again, eyes wide and watchful. 

Rey started to draw back and away, a soft, “I’m going to go find BB-8. Convince him to power up and let him know. He… needs to know too.” 

She left the two alone in the General’s office, unable to bring herself to looking at the screen again. 

\---

Poe sat still for some time, back in a corner and staring at the door. He did very little at first, just sitting there, staring. At first he seemed so still. Motionless. He breathed in and out and stared. 

After a while his hand tapped, or his foot wiggled. 

He stretched his legs out and leaned back into the corner. 

He pulled his legs back in and curled an arm around the one that wasn’t burnt. 

He leaned over the burnt leg and picked at it.

He curled up on his side and took a nap, arm over his head to cover his eyes. 

Sitting and waiting he could do. Sitting and waiting and waiting and waiting, he had done before. In an x-wing, on very long flights, and smelling like a bantha in a bath. 

Sitting and waiting in a padded cell where even the sound of his own breath felt dulled was not, however, as easy. 

Having no idea how long he had been inside this cell, he wasn’t sure if pacing was a sign of impatience or if he was staring to get annoyed with the silence. But he started to pace. back and forth in the room. It was maybe seven foot long. He had decided it was longer than normal cells so that a person can open the door with ease and still keep the prisoner at bay. 

Or so that a very tall person could lay down flat in the room. 

He had to pee. Badly. 

After some time he decided the left corner nearest the door was the corner he disliked the most in the room and was now going to be forever tainted. 

He no longer had to pee. 

Poe slept again, losing track of all hours at all. He said nothing at all the entire time he was in here and waiting. 

When he did wake up again he felt groggy. There were smears of blood on the white padded floor. Padded well enough to kill sound but not well enough for a comfortable sleep. Go figure. He ran his hand over his face carefully, feeling the pucker and pull of burned skin and a bloodied nose from where he had taken a hit from the explosion. 

No wonder his flirting didn’t work with those Stormtroopers. He must look like a mess. “Not at all charming.” He mumbled and leaned back into the back wall again. 

He started another round of sitting and staring. 

It made for terrible broadcasting. 

\---

Hux walked into the control room, strides long and strong, hands perfectly behind his back and he came in behind too controllers and a monitor. “How is our Star doing, Lieutenant?”

The two men at the station sat bolt upright, and one moved to make it appear like he was checking readings. The other spoke carefully. “Not much is going on, sir.” 

“I see that. It’s been a very long and boring broadcast.” 

“What are your orders, general?” The second controller asked, chancing a glance back to their General. 

“Thin the air out a bit. Wait until he seems ready to pass out. Return the flow of oxygen and perhaps, an hour after that, offer some water.” And with that the General turned to leave, leaving the two controllers to sigh and relax a moment again. 

The first one reached over to call down to the detention level, relaying orders. 

\---

At first Poe didn’t notice the change. He sat and waited, breathing in and out at a simple and calm pace. He tried to count droids in his mind, trying to keep himself sharp. He tried to remember names of places he had been and wanted to see again. 

He thought of things that wouldn’t make himself think of the information they might want from him later. 

He was starting to believe they weren’t going to bother trying to get information FROM him. 

After a short while he felt itchy. He needed to stand, to pace again. It wasn’t a good idea, but he had no idea about why it wasn’t such a good idea. 

The air was being pulled out of the room at such a slow rate that he barely noticed. He barely noticed that he felt harder to breath in here. 

“Oh, come on.” He said on a breath. Another quick breath followed it. “At least… ask me… some damn… questions!” He called at the door, and two seconds later he assaulted the door, running up to it and hitting it with a fist. He yelled at the door. “ASK ME ANYTHING?” 

Now he was panting more. Breath shorter, faster. One run at a door shouldn’t do that. “Not… that… I’d tell you.... anything.” He panted, and leaned over his knees suddenly. Head down. 

“Oh… hell.” He huffed, saying to a knee and rubbing at his face. He felt sleepy, itchy and uncomfortable. Like he couldn’t get a full breath. “What… are you guys… doing?” he asked, but still got no answer. 

The air being removed from the room made his ears pop. When he realized what was going on he dropped back onto the floor to sit, hands up as if to surrender. “Okay, okay.. not… going to, you know, fight or anything. No more hitting the door. For now. Come on...I need...I… I need... “ he sucked in a breath, feeling like a fish out of water. 

He sucked in another, feeling as if he couldn’t get enough air. 

He took another deep breath, feeling now as if there was nothing to breath at all.

Just as his eyes started to close and his head started to lull to the side, giving in on fighting it, his body started to tilt, to drop to the sided, when a whoosh hit the room, almost deafening loud. 

Laying on his side he felt it, like a cold chilly breeze. He sat up swiftly as he could, head spinning, dizzy as he sucked in a deep gulping breath. Choking on it almost, but pushing through it. Trying so hard to catch air. 

Poe took fast breaths, then deep ones, suddenly tipping over to lay out on the floor, hand on his chest and breathing in fully until he got his fill. 

His head still spun and throbbed, and he wasn’t sure if it was going to explode or not. 

Okay, that was new. He’d never been in a cell where they took the air out of the room. He can’t call this interrogation though, as no one had asked him any damned questions yet. 

\---

On Nar Shaddaa in a small bar called the Front Lines Cantina a group of beings all stood around the bar counter, money in hand and on the table. A timer was running to the side. As soon as the man in the white room on the screen hit the ground people were cheering, starting to call for collection. Some traded money in anger, others laughed and called for another round of drinks. 

When The Resistance pilot took a breath and sat up, a huge round of jeers and boos could be heard from some people, as if a player missed a goal in a game.

“And he’s up!” Someone else called, slapping a clock and reading off a time, then cross checking it with a pool. “Kayno wins the pool!” Another round of boos and one person shoved through the group, reaching for their jar of money. 

\---

With oxygen returned Poe took in deep breaths and cherished every moment of air he could feel. It was like he was hearing it filtering into the room now. As if he hadn’t heard it before. He sat in one place for a good thirty minutes, regaining his mind and airflow. 

It was after the thirty minutes that he started to pace again, hand rubbing over his head, trying to avoid the reddened area where he had been burned. While running a hand through his hair he realized some of it had been scorched and bonded together. He hadn’t even noticed until now. Too many other things going on. 

The aches and pains had caught up to him hours ago, but they were really starting to put a damper on his fun vacation here. 

“At least ask me some questions.” He said to no one, walking back and forth. He kept licking his lips, and with the rush of oxygen, and having been in here so long, he wasn’t sure when the last time he had water was. That was starting to stress him out a bit, because he was feeling it, that thirst. 

“You can’t keep me in here like this!” He said, turning to yell at the lens above, assuming someone was watching. He didn’t realize how true that was. 

A few minutes later he rushed the door, pounding his hands on it and kicking a boot into the lower half. “There are rules you know! Codes. Guidelines? Common courtesies even, to keeping prisoners.”

He paced. 

He bounced stepped. 

He moved around the tiny room slowly picking up pace a bit. 

He dropped to sit at the far side, rubbing a hand over his burnt leg and frowning. 

An hour after the air had come back on the small sliding door opened in the center of the main door. Poe got up, expecting someone to peek in, open the door, something. He expected something to happen more then that. 

“Hi. Hello. Yeah, so when are we going to get this show on the road? I’ve got a date. Or something. No. That was a lie.” 

Nothing. 

“That thing, you know, with the air? That was nice. Thank you. It was getting a bit stale in here. The fresh air change helped. Real nice.” 

Still nothing. 

He licked his lips, but his mouth was so dry his tongue did nothing. It’s been too long. He was used to a lot of hydration. When flying you had to stay hydrated. You lose water through sweat and movement. You lose it through exhaling even. He knows he can go three days, at the most, maybe four. But he feels like he’s already past that half way mark. Like he has Jakku stuck in his mouth again. 

He’d done that not long ago, back when he first met Finn. Back when he escaped these fools before, with Finn’s help. He’d ejected with the other, but he wasn’t sure where he woke up. Found himself elsewhere. Mouth full of dry and dirt. 

It felt like that now. 

He hated it. How the hell did Rey live on a planet like that for so long? 

Poe was a native to Yavin IV, where he was used to humidity and rain and trees and the jungle and temples and moss and water. None of this sand and sand and dry stuff. 

He doesn’t like it. 

That’s when he saw it. A small hose slip into the hole in the door. A sudden but small stream of clear liquid started to pour in, loudly hitting the padded floor. 

Poe didn’t even think. He didn’t bother to question it. He came forward and dropped to a knee, leaning in to take a drink of the water that fell into the cell. He got a few good gulps in before the stream turned to a trickle. His hand slapped at the door, “No, no, no, no, no! Come on! He found himself yelling, looking down at the floor to the water still there. Not much, as the padding seemed to soak it up slowly.

Swiftly he pulled his jacket off, yanked his shirt off and used it to soak up the water. Not to drink, but to clean up a bit. He dropped to the cell floor and leaned back, running the damp edges of his shirt over his face and hissing as he touched the burned parts. The shirt came away brown and a bit bloody, but he didn’t care. 

When he felt a bit better about his face, he used it to clean his leg a bit, the exposed part from his pants, leaving the shirt to rest on top of his knee when he was done, and leaning back to let out a sigh. 

The water helped. Cleaning up helped. He felt more refreshed and not as loopy now. 

For the next few hours he sat in one place, eyes closed, head back, resting. 

\--- 

There was a slam of a fist into a table suddenly. “Damn it, what the hell are they doing to him?!” Rey growled from beside Finn. They were both seated in one of the small conference rooms trying to figure more out about what to do to help their friend. The General had all her people on this, not only here but elsewhere. 

It was hard though, because there was nothing they could do at the moment. They just sat there and tried to figure out what was going on. Where. Why? Why were they doing this to him? What was the point? 

“Deprivation.” Finn said in a darker toned voice yet calm, staring at the screen at his friend as he slept. If that was sleeping. He watched Poe’s hand twitch and curl. There was no rest there. “In isolation cells, they control all forms of things. Deprivation makes one weaker. Makes a person break.” 

“Poe’s strong though.” Rey said softly, sitting again, lowering her head into her hands and rubbing her face. “He’s strong.” 

“He is, but some things will break anyone.” Finn said, that same flat tone, staring almost distantly at the image on the screen.

He let out a sigh, pulling his eyes away from the image of his friend and tilted his head back, explaining. “They messed with his air. It made him light headed, weak, tired, almost to the point of fainting. Which means they cut off the air completely for a while. Then gave it back to him all in one go. He’s been in there for days. No food. No water. Now with no air, and a return of air, he’s taking it in faster. Trying to gain what he lost back. But he’s now losing more water with every breath. He needs water to survive.” 

He glances over at her at that. He knows she knows that fact, and well. Jakku was a shit hole, or so he felt. That was the worst trip. It was hot, miserable, and water was hard as hell to find. Food too, from what she had said. “You know how lack of water and food will make a person weak on Jakku? But you were kind of used to the lack of food, right? I’m sure Poe’s gone without several times before, but his body is used to certain amounts. They are trying to mess with him now. The tube of water they gave him is a test. They’ll slip some water in very few days, just to give him enough to survive, but they want to play with him too. To see how fast he learns to collect it somehow. Store it.” 

His head fell back again, staring at the ceiling. “The food will come later, if at all.” 

Rey was looking at him, he knew it. He could feel it. He didn’t want to peek over at her again. Her tone of voice as she spoke said enough. 

“How do you know all that?” 

He let out a soft sigh, wondering if he should say or not. 

In the end he explained. 

“When a group of children reach an educated class age of ten they started training you in survival. They start to teach you how to get through situations. You have to understand how it feels to deal with something in order to know how to survive it.” 

“We learned to swim by being collectively thrown into a pool that we had never been in before, and were unable to touch the sides of the pool, or we got our hands slapped away or stepped on. A group of kids, all flailing, fighting, screaming at the same time, trying to stay above a substance we had never been submerged in. Some learned that if you started to swim, you were allowed to go to the other end of the pool and get out. We lost two kids in that test.” 

“When it came to… this.” He said, waving blindly to the screen with Poe on it. “We were each put in a cell alone. I spent the full two weeks in there. Top marks. I ended up in the medical ward for a week after that, but I did the best. I didn’t go through half of what they could have done, but water and food alone drove me crazy.” 

He glanced up to the screen again and scowled. “They put you in it again a few years later. And once more a few years after that. You get better at it, but it’s never something easy to go through. No one looks forward to these room. Some kids get so upset over them that when they are old enough they request stationing in the detention blocks, so they can pay it back on others.”

He glanced her way and saw her staring at him. But it wasn’t disgust, like he expected, but a sad expression he never wanted to see on her face. 

“Finn…” She said softly, reaching a hand out to take his, gripping it a moment. 

He gave her a faint half smile, unable to give much more than that. “Sorry. I don’t mean to… I don’t know, ask for sympathy or anything. It’s just a dumb memory. My point is--” 

“No, you don’t apologize for that.” Rey said firmly. Moving to scoot closer, shifting in her seat and leaning her shoulder to his shoulder, tilting her head to rest on the chair back between them. “We’re going to fix this. We’re going to get Poe out of there, and we’re going to stop the Order, once and for all.” 

“I know…” he said softly, letting her hold his hand for a change, because he really did need it. Staring up at the screen he sighed again, watching Poe’s hand twitch, like he was trying to hold someone's hand as well, but there was no one there for him. 

He was alone. 

\--- 

“Orders from the General.” One trooper said to another, the sound of a smile could almost be read through the mechanical tone of his filtered voice. “Temperature changes.” 

There was a chuckle from the second trooper and he reached out. “About time. This is the one I hated most.” And thus the one he wanted to try the most as well. His hand flicked a switch and moved to a dial, turning it up now. 

\---

Poe found himself settled to the far right of the room, pressed into the corner and leaning back, staring up at the black bubble that had to be the recording device. He wondered why they were recording. Wondered what they were doing with the information. Wondered if there was something more to this then he could see just yet.

There had to be more to it then leaving him here. They still hadn’t asked him any questions, and he was sure he had been in here for days now. At least days. He couldn’t get a good idea of the time of day now. The room had been bright and light ever since he had been thrown into here which meant it was hard to tell when day ended and began again, especially with no chrono piece on his wrist or in sight. 

Body wise he knew he had been in here for some time. He was hungry. Very hungry. His belly growled and protested time and time again, twisting and pulling inside, as if begging for food to be delivered. 

Oh how he wanted to grant its wishes. 

The need for water was worse. 

His mouth felt like dried like a hot summer's day and his tongue felt like sandpaper, running over cracked lips as if there was a chance of moistening them. There was not. 

It was getting hotter in the room as well. At first he didn’t really notice, but as time went he did notice that he still had enough water in his body to sweat. At first he had coat on over his shoulders, but he pulled that off slowly, tossing it to the side. His shirt had long since been taken off to try and clean his face and leg. 

After a few hours he realized that it was hot in the cell. Very hot. Stuffy hot. Like the air was thinner in some ways yet thicker in others. Neither of which was convenient for comfortable living. 

In a hour after that he found himself in nothing but his under briefs, ignoring most of his modesty by laying out on the ground, mostly naked, arms held above his head and his legs splayed out beyond him, heels dug into the padded flooring to keep the backs of his legs from touching the ground. He squirmed, shifted and tried to dry off. To fan out. Anything. 

“Oh come _ON_.” He barked out after a while. He was sure he could see heat waves drift through the air. Either that or it was what little water he had left in his body drifting up and away from him, vaporizing. 

When hours of trying to stay still didn’t help, he got up and moved. Flapped his arms, waved his hands, tried to get some air movement, though he knew it was pointless and perhaps bad for him to exert that much energy in here at a time like this. Still, he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help keep himself moving. 

It had to have been half a day that he sat in the sweltering sauna like conditions of the cell, losing more water than he had to give. Losing more sanity then he felt was right. In truth it might only have been a few hours, but it felt like half a day. It felt like an entire day, really. He couldn’t tell at all anymore however. 

His hands assaulted the door again, slapping at it. “Open up!” And then pounding at it, leaning his head on the door and yelling. “Open the kriffing door! Ask me some damn questions! DO SOMETHING!?!” He yelled, slamming his fists into the door back and forth, a desperation in his cracking voice as he begged. 

With a kick of the padded door he leaned into it, hands on either side of his head and his head down into the padding, forehead pushed in and leaving the man panting. “It’s so hot…” Poe complained to himself more than anything. “So hot…” he repeated, leaning heavier into the door. 

\---

On holo video across the galaxy, one small establishment Mos Eisley on Tatooine was jam packed with traders, smugglers, pirates and rogues, waiting and watching for the newest results. It had become a betting game in a lot of places. The darker and seedier, the more likely the bets would be higher and more deadly. 

On every screen was displayed the Resistance man being tortured by the First Order. A leader board hovered above the bar, leaving times listed. How long it had been since the new ‘challenge’ had started. Who placed what bets. As times passed and people were knocked off the board, more money was put in the pool, making it expand. 

All bets, at the moment, were for how long the Resistance Pilot could survive intense heat. Bets were placed by times going from twenty minutes to twenty hours. Side bets were placed for when the man might have a yelling fit. Others placed for if he passes out face forward from standing, or falling back from sitting. The betting pool was large and people pushed their way into the little establishment to watch and bet. 

The owner couldn’t be more happy. They hadn’t sold this much ale in decades. 

\---

General Organa sat in her office space, her back pressed hard into her chair, arms crossed firmly over her chest and she stared, watching the broadcast. Her features were just as hard as her posture, stern and staring as Poe slipped into another rant on the screen. 

_“Is that the best you can do?”_ she could hear him say in a small mutter, only to yell it a moment later. _“IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO!?”_ Her pilot's fists bang on the padded door, muffled and barely making a dent. She watched as his over heated body sank down into the door again, shoulder and chest pressed to it, forehead dropped into it. There was a moment’s look of relief that made her wonder if the wall felt cool to him for a second. If it had, it didn’t last long. He growled and pushed away from the wall, pacing again. 

Leia watched, feeling acid churn in the pit of her stomach. 

She shouldn’t be watching this. It was what the First Order wanted in the first place. To make them all watch and feel for what they see. To make them lose their ground or falter in step. She wanted to believe it was just making them stronger, to see what the First Order can do to one of their kind. To do to anyone at all. She wanted to believe others out there we're watching this in disgust and picking a new side, or taking a side at all. 

She also knew for every one that took to the Resistance after this, there would be others siding with the First Order. She wasn’t dumb, and the likelihood of someone else being excited about these events was high. It made her feel sick. 

_“Storms make trees take deeper roots. Storms make trees take deeper roots. Storms… make trees… take deeper roots.”_ Leia sat up as she heard the man muttering, leaning in to try and hear him. He was leaning on another wall now, hands pressed into the padding and pushing, swaying back and forth, like he was trying to cool off and too stubborn to sit his ass down again. 

“Do you know what that means?” Someone asked from behind her, coming in with a small tray in his hands.

Turning to look back she saw Finn, dressed down but still wearing Poe’s old leather jacket, standing there holding a tray with cups on it. She watched as he came forward, down the long war table to her side of the room. “Somewhat. It’s a old saying. We had something a bit like it on Alderaan.” She nodded for Finn to take the place near her, not at all attempting to tell him to leave her be. He had right to be here as well, she felt. “ _‘When pain strikes may your heart grow stronger.’_.”

Finn sat the tray down on her small desk, moving to sit a covered teacup to the side for her, nodding to her and it. “For you.” He said simply, then looked up to the screen again. “It sounds like he’s willing himself to be strong.” 

“So it does.” Leia said, taking the cup of hot tea and holding it in two hands. The burn of heat felt nice in her old bones, sinking in and warming her even before taking a sip. She felt her hands settling around it as she stared at the screen again as well. “He’s doing what he can, to keep collected.” 

“I’m not sure it will be enough.” Finn said on the softest voice, thick with a heavy tone of bitter sadness. His eyes looked away from the screen and he moved to lean on the desk near them. “They’ve only begun to play with him.” He let out a sigh, watching the old General. “And weren’t you the one that put out the order not to indulge the First Order in watching this?”

“My orders do not pertain to me.” 

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” 

Leia shook her head just slightly, taking a sip of the tea and feeling it burn down her throat, seeping heat into her body. She hadn’t realized how cold she felt while sitting here watching one of her best burning up in a tiny cell in some unknown location. “It’s for the benefit of others. They do not need to watch this.” 

“But you do.” Finn said, though it wasn’t a question. He folded his arms and watched her now instead of Poe, who was pacing back and forth again.

“I do.” She agreed, head tilting to look up again at the man on the screen. 

“You didn’t put him in this situation, General.” Finn said kindly, watching her watch his friend. 

“I put you all in these situations. I should have a way to get you all out of these situations.” Her voice was firm but a bit flat, the feeling of a heaviness sinking into the air as she spoke them. 

On the screen, Poe started to pace again, hands running over his face. He stumbled as he stepped, clearly exhausted. _“BB-8. Finn. L’ulo. Rey. Jess. Snap. Chewie. Brighton. Jenson. Dendie. Kryte. BB-8. L’ulo. Finn. Rey. Snap. Jess. Chewie. Brighton. Jenson. Dendie. Kryte...”_

“What’s he doing?” Finn asked curiously, brow raised and watching Poe recite over and over a list of names. He recognized nearly all of them, and confused he watched on as Poe seemed more and more torn up over every name he said. He noticed how his voice broke the last time he repeated Finn’s name. 

Her voice felt a bit distant as she spoke, soft on a breath. “He thinks you’re all dead.” She let out a soft breath, closing her eyes as the list repeated again. “He’s making sure your names aren’t forgotten. He must have seen the wreckage, or they’ve told him as much. He’s listing his people from the mission.” 

“He’s giving them information.” Finn said without thought, rubbing at his chin. There had to be a way to get hold of that recording, the stream. Stop it or turn it around or use it. 

“I don’t think he thinks it matters now. They, you, are all dead in his mind. He’s hot, tired and losing it. He needs to keep the lot of you close to heart and in mind.” Only a few of them were lost, and others were returned in bad condition. Still, she noticed the order he listed people, and she had the feeling it was in a order of who was closest to him, or who he valued most. Only a few of the names changed place in his order, once in awhile. It was interesting to hear but also heartbreaking. 

_“BB-8. Finn. Rey...”_

The feed suddenly cut off, going black. 

\---

“I’ll talk first.” Poe heard from the speaker. 

Too hot to move or get up towards it, he lay there, head tilting backwards towards the voice. 

“You’re giving them exactly what they want.” The voice was dark, flat, with an edge of bitterness lining every sentence. “I thought you would be better about composure, Dameron.” 

“Composure? Ha. I’m as composed as … as…” He paused, unable to think of something at the moment. “Kirff.” He said instead, on a whisper. 

A tutting sound came from the other side. “Can’t even think of a good insult. What a nerf brained idiot.” It was an old insult. A very old insult from a time that Kylo tried hard to forget, but right now, with all that was going on, this might actually have started to bother him as well. 

“B-ben?” Poe whispered, shock hitting his poor tired brain at the insult. “Now I know I’m losing it.” 

“So keep it together!” Kylo snapped, and the speaker clicked, going silent again. The man was annoyed by the name, clearly. Annoyed at more than that, honestly. 

\---

The feed came back on, barely a few minutes of blackness. “What happened?” Finn asked, heart going into his throat. “Brosdcasting hiccup?” 

“Maybe.” Leia said, having sat her tea aside, letting out a breath as they could see Poe once more. There was something about being able to see him, as morbid as this was, that make it a bit easier too. At least they could SEE him. Could see he was still alive. 

“I can’t take much more of this myself, General. We have to do something.” 

“And we will, as soon as we can.” 

\---

Time had no meaning to Poe. He was over heated. He was tired. He was restless. He passed out several times by now and woke up in a puddle of his own sweat. He’d woke up again later to no puddle, and he wonders if that’s a bad sign or not. 

When the panel on the door opens again and the tube comes in, Poe takes no time to move his tired, aching, pain riddled body over to the door, boot in hand. He leans into the door, desperate to get water as it comes in. 

And it does. 

Slowly. 

It trickles in and right into his mouth, drinking it up greedily. If they are giving him just enough to survive, it’s got to have been at least a day, maybe two since the last time he saw water. This time he’s ready for it. Mouth open and gulping down everything he can, his boot under him, catching what else might fall. It doesn’t matter to him that the water falls into his dirty, old, sweaty boot, it’ll hold a bit of water at least. That is, if he lets any fall. 

There is a moment where the water comes in on a rush, gushing. It hits him and soaks him, washing over his face and through his hair. His hands hold the boot, letting it fill, seeping out over the sides in places. He keeps gulping down water as it comes, no care at all if it’s laced with something. He just needs it. All of it. 

The water pours in on him so fast that he’s soaked, and he’s fine with that. The water washes over his skin and starts to leave a faint smoke like haze, vaporizing almost instantly on touch. It feels amazing.

An hour later and he feels the chill. 

The room has changed again. Now he can see his breath, puff and huff before him. Still, even at that, he doesn’t mind. It feels better then the sweltering heat. 

His jacket comes in handy now, wrapping his damp body up in it. The cold, he keeps telling himself, is amazing. “I like winter planets in the winter. Hoth? That’s a summer resort. Bring it.” He says to no one, shuddering in damp shorts, still bare legged but wearing his coat. 

He surrenders when he realizes his skin is going nearly Chiss blue, pulling his pants and sullied shirt back on. His burned leg and face ache to the touch, but the cool helps more then the heat. 

\---

“Ewww!” A young girl called loudly across the living room to her brother. “Eww, ew, he did it! He drank water from his boot! Ji’kin! Come look at this!” The young girl, no more than nine or ten, squealed and jumped around, flapping her hands at her sides, as if she just witnessed someone eat a pincer worm for the first time. 

“Calm down, Di’de.” A young man said, coming into the living space to witness his little sister flailing about. The Holo of the Resistance man was on once more making him roll his eyes. It was nearly the only thing that wasn’t interrupted lately. Some stations, local mostly, had taken back their control, but their entertainment was small and boring. It was the larger stations that held everyone's interest, and right now all they played was a torture scene of one man. 

One man who was sipping water from a boot, shivering, his face chilled to a pale blue now. Ji’kin rubbed at his stubbled jaw, his fingers scratching at a small blue goatee that was barely growing in. “It’s smart. He has no idea how long it will be until they give him water again.” 

“But it’s from his boot! You don’t know what he’s stepped in! What if it was Kupu pie!” The young girl said in an excitable and disgusted kind of childlike manner. 

Ji’kin rolled his eyes and reached out to knock her in the head lightly. “He has to do what he can to survive. To prove he’s better than they are.” 

“He’s not better!” The girl said firmly, standing tall suddenly and giving a salute. An old Imperial salute. “He’s rebel scum!” 

The boy reached out and slapped her hand down, glaring as he reached to take it and fold it into both his. “No! No Di’. I want you to look at this. I want you to watch this and witness. This is not Father’s Empire. It’s dead. The Empire is long dead. What these people are doing is _torture_! Not only of that man but every person he knows. Every friend or family member he has who can see. Every person who believes in freedom. It’s torture to all of us.” 

“But we don’t know him!” The girl protested, not getting it. 

“What if that was me? What if it was me stuck in that cell. How would you feel, sitting here, watching him and being unable to help. How do you think his family feels?” 

That made the girl stop, and she started to cry, staring at her big brother. She leaned in and hugged him, shaking her head. “But you won’t go and get in trouble like him. It’s different. You’re a loyal son of the Empire.” She said, sounding as if she were repeating something their parents had said before. 

Ji’kin sighed, hugging his sister back tightly, but stared at the screen, frowning. “Yeah… I won't get in trouble like him.” He said to her, though he knew he meant it differently. Tomorrow. He would stage his escape tomorrow. It was all set. All he had to do was find one location and gain a connection. Join the Resistance. This entire scene had pushed him to go into action. 

He would no longer live in the past and he sure didn’t want to live in a future ruled by someone who would do this. 

\---

The temperature mellowed out after a while. One unwrapped, broken off, less than half flavorless meal ration bar was dropped through the opened slot at the top, tumbling to the ground and bouncing off the padded mat. Poe scrambled for the food, his hands grabbing it up as swiftly as possible, not even caring if it fell in the forbidden left corner for a moment. All he cared about was shoving a bit of food into his mouth before they came in and took it out some how. 

It wasn’t much, but it helped the gnawing, pulling feel at his belly immensely. It filled in the pocket of air in his stomach that felt as if it had been empty for weeks. He had gone without food before, but there was always something to chew on nearby, right? This was bare bones nothing and he had nothing to distract his hunger from himself. 

The portion of meal ration bar helped settle him though. For a little while. 

Enough that when the speaker on the door crackled to life, he didn’t flinch in fear of it being a delusion of his mind. He stared for a moment as someone took their own moment to gather breath.

“How does it feel to be the only survivor of your failed mission?” The voice was dark and flat, with a strange tint of amusement hidden at the edges. “Your droid, your ship, your friends, your crew. All of it destroyed.” 

Poe twitched, moving closer by inches to the door, towards the speaker in the door. His hands came up to the door, reaching for it, touching it a moment. Eyes dark and pained as he watched it as if it were a face of a person.

“Not so talkative anymore, are we?” the stuffy voice said in a whisper. “I thought you wanted us to ask you questions.” The General, making his presence known in the detention center, stood by the door, finger pressed down on the speaker outside, speaking softly so not to be picked up by the speakers, but a sound enough to get Damerons attention. 

Poe, for what it was worth, had came to the door and pressed close to it, staring at it like he could see the face of the person. His hand pat at the door, at the padding, then slapped at it. “You let me out of here you son of a--”

“What was that? I can’t really hear you. Too much padding, maybe. Speak louder?” the smarmy sounding voice said slowly, still a whisper. 

“Let. Me. OUT!” He yelled, banging on the door, hand slapping wildly. 

\---

From the General’s War room, Leia leaned over a data pad, scanning over files and intel, a glare on her brows. Nothing was pointing to a location, let alone a general location. Connix had yet to bring her anything of worth. Her Pilot was suffering and there was nothing she could do but watch. 

In the chair nearest the large display screen sat Rey, legs curled under her, fingers playing with her toes and eyes staring up at the screen, blank and expressionless. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in a while, just seated there, staring at the monitor. Like she was trying to support the other by going without things as well.

He eyes followed Poe as he moved, sitting up and staring at the door. She wondered if someone was opening it, but there was no movement. Maybe another water time? They had only just fed him. A meal that was small even for how she grew up. 

Yet there he was, standing at the door, slapping his hands at the padding. He mumbled something, and then yelled to let him out. Rey winced, hand coming up to her forehead and rubbing at her temples, letting out a soft sigh. 

She could hear him talking now, to the door, but she couldn’t hear anyone else talking. _“You thick bastard! You killed all of them, and for what? Just to torture me?!”_ it really did sound as if he were talking to someone, but no sound was coming from the other side.

Rey sat up, feet to the floor and leaning forward a bit, eyes narrowed as she watched him. He paused, as if to press his ear closer to the door, his hand pressed to it and a look of pained concentration on his face. 

Then suddenly he started to swing his fists wildly at the cell door, yelling out at it. _“LIAR! I didn’t! I didn’t do that! Shut up, shut up!”_ A string of denials and curses were yelled out, his hands slamming into the door, over and over. Rey winced as she could see a smear of red end up on the door, even with it’s padding, the amount of times the man was yelling, throwing his fist into the door had been enough to break skin in places. 

_“I didn’t. I didn’t. It’s not my fault...”_ had turned to crying as the man leaned into the door, sliding down to his knees once more. His fist hitting the padding but with no power to it now. He had so little energy, and expelling it with hitting and yelling wasn’t going to help anyone. At all. _“I didn’t mean for them… to die. It wasn’t suppose to go that way. Shut up… shut up...”_

Rey watched, eyes wide and watery but also angry as what ever was going on was getting to Poe. Strongly. The man was pulling at his ears a moment, hands pressing over them to close them, as if to block the sounds of something. There was no way he was alone there. Someone had to be talking, but she could hear nothing. Nothing but his crying. His denial to the situation. His repeated demand that someone shut up. 

Suddenly the screen went silent, jarring Rey from her concentration on the situation. Her eyes went a bit wider, before turning to see Finn, ashen faced and dark eyes, holding the small control and muting the screen. 

“Turn it back on!” Rey said firmly. 

Finn shook his head. No. “There is nothing he can say that will be important to our finding him. If it wasn’t for the fact that I want to keep him in view so I know he’s still alive… I’d turn it off completely.” 

He looked to her, and back to the General, apologetic. “I understand why we keep it playing, but we can at least give Poe this. Just… this one tiny grace. He doesn’t need us hearing this. Hearing him like this. It won't make a difference.” 

Leia only nodded once, looking away from the screen again and returning, wordless to her reports. Reading, searching.

Rey frowned sharply, looking back to the screen, seeing Poe moving again. His head bounced back into the wall, bloody hand slapping the mat beside him where he was crumpled. His mouth open, screaming words out as loudly as he could. 

Finn was right. They didn’t need to hear him to understand he was hurting. “They’re really doing it. Breaking him down.” She said on a faint voice. 

“He’s strong.” Leia said without looking up, as if telling herself as much. He’s strong. He’ll get through this. 

“He has to be…” Finn said from where he stood beside Rey’s seat. He pat her shoulder before drawing away to go over and look at what the General was working on. “Need a second eye?” And without a word, she handed another data pad over to him. Before long, Rey was given another and all three were pawing through reports. 

 

\---

Poe wasn’t sure how long he had been there. It was never night, which shouldn’t be a problem when you were used to being in space, but there was no clock. No time. There was no way to tell how long he had been there or how long a single galactic standard minute was even.

The voice stopped for a bit, replaced by a new one. A woman with a deep accent and tone, telling him how they killed each and every friend and crew member at the sight. That had he surrendered easy, they would all have gotten away. That if he had come with them willingly, or surrendered, none of them would have been hurt, but here they were. His fault. 

The voices of several others came by from time to time, taunting him. Teasing him. Bringing him down slowly. Sometimes the room was too hot. Sometimes it was too cold. Sometimes the air was wrong and other times it came in at too much of a rush. Food and water didn’t come again, helping to break him down a bit further. 

It felt like weeks later, though it might only have been a few days or even a few hours, Poe couldn’t be sure, but the sounds that funneled into the room had been loud. Very loud. Loud enough that they were being picked up on recordings and broadcasts for everyone to hear.

These voices weren’t people whispering on the other side however. There was no trooper or general or commander speaking to an intercom, telling him how much he screwed up and how many of his friends were dead. These were recordings. Very loud recordings of people screaming, crying, sobbing for help. Once in awhile his name would be tossed in, someone pleading for him to help them. 

But mostly it was just screaming. Torturous screaming of people being hurt and interrogated. Or of people in other cells near by, or so it sounded, crying out for help. The sounds were ignorable at first, making Poe twitch in disgust, but the longer they went on the more he wanted to help. 

At first he tried calling back, yelling back to them. To the people. “Hang in there! Hey, you hear me? It’ll be okay. Just hang in there. We’ll get out of this!” 

But then his yelling moved from trying to comfort the people to yelling at the captors. “Stop it!” his fists slamming on the door. “Leave them alone!” And to more yelling as it kept going. “Please! Leave them alone! You don’t have to do this! WHY are you doing this!?” 

As the screaming kept going, over lapping after a while, Poe stopped trying to fight this. He seemed to understand it wasn’t real. Or at least they weren’t going to stop. He paced like a wild cat, moving slowly through his very tiny claustrophobic cell, unable to block the screams. 

\-----

“Come on, Val, mute it! We’re tryin’ ta eat here.” A Quarren said from the far end of a bar, the holo monitors were a light on all four walls of Val’s Vent Shaft, a small dive bar seated at the ends of a factory ventilation system, meaning the part was stationed in a warmer area than the rest, making it unwanted land, and ideal for a crappy little hole in the wall bar. 

There was a small group of farmers at the far end, leaning back in chairs with ale’s in hand, staring at one monitor, each one silently taking notes, writing things down and chatting softly to each other.

A waitress in a small uniform sat on a stool at the back, one pair of hands rubbing her sore feet, the other pair holding her head, trying to rub the headache away. Even with the volume down so it wasn’t too loud, it was still too much to handle. 

Behind the counter, Val, a Shivsitravian male stood there wiping a glass clean, giving a small snarl at the Quarren who made the request. “I would, but they’re paying me to keep it on.” He said, nodding to the group of farmers in disgust.

“Heartless sons of--” Started the Quarren, mumbling into his drink and looking at the farmers with his own brand of disgust on his face. 

“Four days now, Val! This torture session and screaming has been going on for four days!” The waitress said from across the end of the bar, hands over her ears and other hands on her hips, clearly worn out. 

“Five, in galactic standard time.” another patron said tipping back his drink. “And I think this might be my last till it changes. It might be his torture, but this is torture to my ears. Why’ve we gotta watch this anyhow? Turn it the hell off.” 

The bartender waved a hand at the three farmers at the table, all intensely listening to the video. “Ask THEM. They’re the ones so damn interested.” he snarled. 

“You’re the owner! No one ELSE wants to hear this!” Someone else shot back, agitated. 

Agitated was the natural way of being when you’ve put up with the only thing on any station they can get being this one man being tortured by screaming people. Who thought that was a good idea? 

“ _Shut up!_ ” One of the farmers yelled, hand up and leaning forward, eyes closed. “It’s doing it again…” he said more calmly, trying to hear. 

The man on the screen sat in a corner of the cell, his legs crossed under him, his hands over his head and rocking, very slightly forward and back, eyes closed and mumbling. You could barely hear him over the sound of a man crying over the intercom. 

_“Please. Please. I got a wife. I got three kids. I don’t know anything about the Resistance. I worked for the New Republic, nothing more. I was just a mechanic! I didn’t do anything else. Please. Let me go home. Let… let--”_ the voice started screaming as something zapped him. The sound of something hitting flesh hard could be heard, and a soft pathetic stream of apologies. 

While all this was going on, a woman’s voice was sobbing in the background. As if overlaid on the recording. 

The man who yelled for everyone to be quiet stood there, looking pale. He rubbed at his own face. One of the other two at his table reached out, taking hold of his arm and squeezing it . “That was it?” the man nodded. 

“What was it?” The waitress called from near by, frowning at them. 

“You can turn it off. I got what I need.” the man grabbed his note pad, hands shaking. 

“So now what?” his companions both asked, looking up at him. 

Val, from the counter flicked the volume off on the screens, the bar falling into a strange silence it hadn’t heard in awhile. “Start talking, Harman. Why’d that sound like you?” 

“Because it was me.” He said, rubbing at a healing scar at his left shoulder, moving from his spot and to the counter, leaning heavy on it as he put his notepad down. “I heard it the other day. They're repeating it. Tossing parts in with other people. You all heard about the explosion of that super weapon? That bigger Death Star thing? A few weeks after it destroyed the New Republic, I got round up. Interrogated. That?” He pointed to a monitor. “That’s got me in there. A’llya over there heard a friend of ours. A few other things we knew.”

“So no one’s getting hurt right now. It’s all old recordings?” the Quarren said over his drink, seeming to relax a bit more now that the sound was muted. 

“Everyone’s being hurt right now!” Harman said, hand slamming on the counter to make it a point. “Everyone hearing this is being hurt, in some small indirect way, but that man is being tortured as well. Here you sit crying in your ale about it, but he can’t escape it. He can’t turn it off. Five standard days! You get to walk away any time you want but he’s… he’s…” 

“Easy there…” one of the other farmers said, coming up behind him. He leaned on the counter and looked to Val. “You got that old decryptor in back still? I’ve got a couple of people I need to contact. See if i can get a message through. If that’s what we think it is, we might know where he’s being held, and if so, I know someone who… might know it’s current location.” 

The Shivian gave him a nod, then nodded back for them to follow to the back. The three farmers headed back with him, to a small bunker room. The others in the bar seemed to pile around the door, trying to peek in to see or hear what was going on. 

\-----

Poe had no idea how long it had been since this started. He lay there in the center of the cell, feet on a wall and eyes staring blankly up into the ceiling. Too weak and tired to move. He lay there bare chested, normally toned muscles were softer looking, belly curving in just a bit more. He could go a few more days, but he felt terrible. He couldn’t get the energy to move. 

The screaming and torture sounds kept going. 

His ears rang. 

They rang and rang so loudly that he barely heard people anymore. It was all just sound and complications. Noise. 

‘The Resistance will not be intimidated.” he mumbled at strange intervals, as if he was trying to remind himself. “The Resistance will not be intimidated.” He said, as if to reminds others as well. He was not worth their getting into trouble to save him. He knew he was here alone and he would not be saved. “The Resistance... will not be... intimidated.” 

Poe was so out of it that he did not realize the two walls on either side of him started to compress. Slowly, slowly creeping in, a half an inch at a time. 

“The Resistance will… will not be intimidated…” he muttered, eyes closing for the moment. 

The walls creeped in closer, pressing in on the padded floor with a weird squeak. A press of synthetic padded fabric being forced to go under the wall as it moved in.

“The Resistance will not be--.” When he left arm felt something press to him he felt himself stumble to a halt in words. “Intimidated?” He said to himself, head rolling to look at the wall. It was nudging closer, and so was the other side. 

“Kriffing hell…” He growled, pushing himself up to sit with some effort. It was clear on camera that he was dizzy with the way his body moved and head seemed to be spinning. He looked slowly, left, then right, and realized his room was growing smaller. 

“Yeah? This all you … you got?” He said, moving to stand, using both walls easy enough to get up. And it was a good thing he stood too, as he had to go into profile stance as the walls closed in on him tighter. “Going to flatten me good, huh? Say it to my face…” he mumbled, letting his head fall forward on the wall. 

Poe stood there a moment, hands pressed into the wall, head leaning into it. He felt dizzy and uneasy, eyes closed a moment to try and get himself in order again. 

Then his knees buckled and he dropped, his heels into one wall, his knees lodged into the other one, holding him up. The wall stopped moving, leaving barely any room to move. “I could do this all day.” he mumbled under his breath.

All day equaled a few hours before he started to squirm. To push from one end to the other. The walls were so tight that he literally had to push his way between them, one fist banging on the door, pleading. His voice weak, cracking, pleading with them to let him out, or at least give him space again. 

\-----

“General! We’ve found the _Finializer_!” Connix said in excitement, bursting through the war room door and rushing down the left side of the table to the main wall monitor where general Organa, Finn and Rey sat; just a moment before having been arguing about this or that.

A data pad was thrust into Leia’s hands, information already brought up for her to see. “Several reports from others have brought in tips, confirming suspicions that it’s it’s General Hux’s ship.” Connix said with a stern look on her face, even with a pep in her attitude. “One connection may also be of interest to you. He seems to think he knows the location of the ship.” 

The General leaned over to look where Connix pointed out. Her heart tightened as she looked it over. It could be a trap. It could be a set up to get them out in the open once more. The new bases were both hidden so far, and the last thing they needed was to give the First Order an opening. 

“We have to go.” Rey said firmly, inappropriately leaning over the General's other side, reading the information as well. “Please, General, it’s… I feel it. This is… it’s right.” Rey pushed, her hand at her chest, staring at the information on the screen. “I can’t explain it but…” 

“No. I feel it too.” Leia confirmed, nodding. “Ready the Falcon.” 

Finn was already on the other side of the doors, pushing out it. “I’ll tell Chewie.” And was gone. 

\-----

Water. They gave him water again. If they were doing it properly, and to his count, there was just enough to come in every two days or so, but in truth he couldn’t keep track. Maybe it was more, maybe it was less. His lips were so chapped and his skin so dry. He felt like he’d been without water for a lifetime not a few days. 

When it poured in, he pushed himself closer to the door, allowing himself to drop, sideways, to the floor. His bare chest squeaking on the wall as he did, the room still close and confining. Too close. Too tight. He’s staved off several panics attacks off and on again. He’d move to lay on one side, on the floor. Move to get up and roll to the other, though he wasn’t all that keen on having his feet near the door for some reason. Too hard to get up and move if it opened. 

The water came in, just a bit to start. And by time his head was down where he could get some the stream stopped. Just enough for a few mouthfuls. He lay there, trying to lap what he could off the floor, but it was draining away in the stressed pockets of the padded cell, moving away from him before he could get a taste of it. 

Laying there on the ground, on his burnt side, trying to get water, feeling the walls pressed at his back and chest, he found himself hitting a panic again. 

At first it was too tight. He found it hard to get his arm under him and couldn’t get up again. His heart started going too fast. Breath too shallow. The feeling like everything was too close and there wasn’t enough space had bothered him for ages now but the feeling like the air was running out again on top of it? That was the final straw. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t move. It was like his vision was going black and every gasp he took didn’t help at all. 

He didn’t even realize he was screaming. Trying to thrash around with what little energy he had left. Screaming and shaking and fighting against the binds of the cell. He flung his head back and forth, as if the push and shove would help. As if the slender space he was in going to widen if he did. 

Poe was a master with small spaces. The cockpit of his X-wing was small as it was. Fitting a pilot and equipment and very little else. He had crapped a friend in there once, for a rescue, but he wouldn’t advise that ever again. And yet here he was, in a space even smaller, and he was so sure he could handle it. He kept telling himself he could, but he was losing that. 

The screaming was panicked and frustrated, punctuated with growling as he tried to shove on the walls again. If he had any energy in him at all he might have gotten somewhere, but even then it was doubtful. There was no budging and the air in the room felt stale, but also felt as if it were leaving.

And then he thought he heard something. A crackle of sound, then “...’ll right. It’s all right. We’re going to get you out. Shh, Poe.” 

His heart stopped. He jerked, panting, huffing for breath. He sucked in a sharper breath. Shit he was hearing voices again. Not again. 

“You got to calm down, Poe. Take in some slow breaths. Come on. Nice and easy.” 

He was still trying to take in too much. His chest constricted as if the room was smaller. It wasn’t but he felt as if it were. “I… I can’t.” his voice felt smaller than before, whispered and tiny. “I can’t! I...i can’t breath.” He gasped, eyes closing and his body thrashing again. “Get me out. I… please. I can’t do this!” 

Poe was fighting again, weakly, but frantic once more. A losing battle. 

A woman's voice came next. Hushed but firm. “Poe! We can’t talk long, but we need you to be strong. Just a bit longer.” It sounded a bit like Rey, but that couldn’t be. 

“Come on, buddy. Don’t lose it now. We’re on our way.” The male again, sounding deep and reassuring. 

“Finn?” he gasped. “Rey?” There was a thrill of a sound. A beep. A string of beeps. “Beebee…” He suddenly started to cry. To laugh and to cry, still gasping for air, but not fighting anymore. He was still stuck and having a hard time breathing, but those were his friends. Those were… those were his friends. Either he was dead at last or they were still alive and coming for him. 

There had been so many times he thought he heard them before. This shouldn’t be any different. 

His laughing grew louder, his one hand coming up to try to press at his ear. “No. No… no.” he started to laugh again, choking on air and the sound. “You’re not going to… to lose it… Dameron.” he told himself, trying to move again, but he was too tired. He relaxed, letting his body lay there in the padded cell floor. Giving up on this. 

“I promise, buddy. It’s me. We’ll be there soon.” Finn said and cut off the coms. 

The sound of someone talking cut in the moment after, as if they were talking to him the whole time. A smarmy voice, speaking in a flat tone on the other side. Hux. He ignored it, mentally thinking about what Finn and Rey said. About that beep he heard from BB-8. He could do this. He could calm down and hang on a bit longer. 

The voice sounded annoyed that he wasn’t responding. Good. He refused to respond anymore. Not to Hux. Not to anything but Finn or the others. He tried to take a slow even breath, feeling his chest press into the wall, then let it go, just s slowly. ‘Breathe’ they had said, so he was going to keep doing that. 

He was hungry, tired, and he hurt. Both mentally and physically, he hurt, but they were coming for him. As much as he didn’t want them to fall for a trap and try to save him; as much as he felt his life wasn’t worth that kind of rescue mission, they were coming for him and he was glad for it. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free. He needed out of this small horror space. 

And if they were really alive? He needed to see them each again. His most important people. 

\---

Once they found the battleship, getting aboard wasn’t easy but it was manageable. “This isn’t going to work.” Jacen Syndulla said, piloting the shuttle forward on baited breath. “This is insane.” 

“We asked you to come along because you like the insane mission, Captain.” Rey said, leaning on the back of both pilot and co-pilot seats. Finn was dressed in a First Order uniform and in the co-pilot seat, knee bouncing through nerves. 

“I never said I didn’t want to be here, just that it was insane. We’re clear to land. They’ll do a scan on the ship once on board, then they’ll remove the cargo. You better get into the crate, Rey.” 

A few crates were built to smuggle living things inside a place and past scanners. Scanners will just read that it was junk, which was half true, but the other had was a misfit junker hiding inside of it. 

“On it. Good luck guys.” Rey said, patting a well painted black BB-8 on the head as she went back to the cargo hold. 

“May the Force be with you.” Jacen called back, then pulled his hat on, settling it properly on his freshly dyed hair. What once was green was now black. The spots on his ears and cheeks had been covered with makeup. Though he hoped he wouldn’t be needed long enough to notice. 

“You too, Finn. We’re going to need it.” 

\---

Kylo Ren stood still on the bridge, eyes behind the helmet narrowing as he looked up upon the shuttle coming closer. It was cleared for landing, but there was something about it that didn’t ring true for him. 

Force Signatures. One weak, covered maybe. Something or someone he had known before. Something he wanted nothing to do with right now. The other was loud and blaring. The girl. Unable to pull back on her abilities at all, he could find her like he could see the sun in a system. 

“What is it, Ren?” General Hux said from his side, having just stepped up near him. “You radiate discomfort.” 

“It’s nothing.” The dark filtered voice came evenly. 

“Something with the shuttle?” Hux started, head lifted and eyes narrowed, about to raise alarms silently if he had to. 

“There is nothing special with the shuttle.” He said flatly, helmeted face turning to look him in the face. “You are going to lose your torture entertainment system soon if you do not feed him.” His voice was ominous, as if a warning. As if he had something telling him this much through the Force. 

The gingers face puckered a bit, annoyed at being told this but.. “He is scheduled to be fed in a hour.” then darkly. “I was unaware you were monitoring the pilot on your own. Taken an interest to him” 

Ren felt his hand flex at his side, but otherwise nothing changed. “He is a pilot of General Organa’s interest. I only look forward to more pain sent her way. The longer it lasts, the better.” He turned to start to leave. “See to it that you make him suffer for as long as possible.” 

He knew better though. That shuttle was going to cause some issues and, though he was losing hold of Ben inside, he was still willing to do what he could to fix the situation. He had been this way too long. He was done for on this side, but he could still fix this one small issue. 

\---

The walls were starting to draw away, inch by inch, minute by minute. Slowly but surely, they were receding away from him and allowed him room to lay on his back once again. Poe let out a breath as he felt his body lay flat on the padded flooring. At last. 

A little door opened, and as his head was near the door, looking up he could see a small ration brick start to slide in. As his hand reached for it, it darted back outside. “Oh, come on…” Poe whispered, moving to try and roll back to his side, then his knees. 

“If you want food, get up and get it, pilot.” Some trooper voice said through the door. A dark chuckle could he heard. The ration bar waved again, through the slot, and as he tried to reach for it, it ducked away again. 

Poe moved to stand, barely able to handle his own weight as he did. His hands pressed on the door, leaning there to call out. “I’m standing. Give it back now!”

“With your mouth, you dirty mutt.” the trooper said, waving the bar in the hole again. Poe grabbed for it and he missed, hearing the man outside tut softly, like he did it wrong. As Poe opened his mouth, trying to show he’d try, he heard a thunk against the door. 

The thunk slide down the door and to the ground. Another clack sound of something hard hitting a helmet was heard, then the buckethead hit the floor too. Leaning into the door he tried to peek through the slat that had been left open by the troopers. It was dark and dim outside, the hall lights not enough to give him anything other then dark grays of the hall. “What’s going on?” he called out. 

“Poe?!” Someone said and his heart sank. The tone in the man's voice was scared, or at least it seemed so. Were they going to start the screaming torture all over again? Make him hear his friends? When did it even stop before? He couldn’t remember, as he could still hear them in his head. 

“Poe! Buddy, is that you? Stand back!” It sounded like Finn. 

The walls in the room suddenly slide back fast. A woosh of air came back into the room, and a click of the door could be heard. The door slide out then to the side, opening to show a gray uniform of an officer standing in the hallway, a blaster rifle in his hands. 

Finn raised a hand to his face, to his nose to cover it. “Oh stars, do you smell.” he let out a low breath and moved forward, a hand reaching out to the pilot. 

Poe ducked back away from the hand coming for him, looking startled, frightened almost, but more surprised. “F-Finn?” 

“That’s my name.” He said proudly to the man, stepping more in to offer a hand. “We’re here to rescue you. We have to go now though. Can you walk?” 

“Y-yeah. Yeah. I think so.” Poe said and started to move. Pausing only to stop and look up at the video. “The Resistance does not leave their own.” And then he made a rude gesture to the image. “This is for General Hugs.” 

Then he moved out with Finn’s help, pausing to bend down and grab the ration off the ground. It was disgusting but he took the hardest bite he could, jerking his hand away with half the bar missing. “Now I’m ready.” 

Finn yanked his uniform jacket off, pulling it around Poe as if it would help. For a moment Finn felt sick as he realized the man was swimming in the coat, when normally they were around the same size. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

A tweet and trill came from down the hall, and a grinding of a ball droid on metal flooring could be heard. A black droid came running up and stopped before Poe, chattering excitedly, then in worry. 

“Is that Beebee?” Poe said, then nearly fell to the floor, ration bar dropped, hands reaching out to the droid. His eyes were streaming tears now, laughing. “I thought I lost you. I thought I lost you all.” He rubbed the droids ball body with both hands before raising one to wipe at his face. 

“We’re not out of the clear yet. Rey’s running distraction on the ship, trying to get Ren out of the way. We need to get back to the shutter before they realize what’s going on.” Finn said, swooping down to collect Poe and help him move. “Come on. Just a bit longer and you can rest. I promise.” 

Poe nodded, using Finn’s help to get moving. He didn’t realize how weak his legs had become. “How long have I been in there?” 

“Too long. You’re going to have some orientation problems, for sure. Just hang with me and we’ll get it better.” He then whispered “This time I got another pilot. So you just need to worry about moving.” 

“We need to stop meeting like this on this damn ship.” Poe tried to say with a laugh, but it came out as a fizzle. 

“I kirfing agree.” Finn said firmly, hauling the other after BB-8 as the droid rolled ahead of them and out of the detention area. Past several downed bodies. 

\---

“He did it! He got out!” Keiden yelled loudly in the space port he was waiting in. There were boo’s from one hall, but more cheer’s from another bar. From a side port at the space station. From ships and other halls ways. Different reactions, but most of it positive.

A green twi’lek woman stood at the bottom of a ran to a ship, hands on he hips, head lifting. “You kids ready to go?” 

“Did you hear?!” Another boy called, running up to her. “Look. Look! The pilot got free!” He shoved the data pad to her, but the woman could only smile. 

“Is that what the uproar is about?” She knew her son was piloting for the Resistance group right now. That he was there, helping with that right now. She hoped beyond hope they were doing well. “Good. Then we better hurry off and get there before they get back, hmm?” 

There were nine passengers, of all ages and races. They lined the deck before the Ghost as a motley crew. One man was older than she was, three of them were younger than she would have liked, but they were all willing to leave with her to join the Resistance. 

Since the display of the pilot being tortured, the resistance had started to see an influx of people willing to join and fight beside them, and Hera was doing her part to help shuttle them to their new homes. 

\---

Rey had got transported in the crate to a side hall and left alone. She popped the lid and snuck out, looking to cause distractions here and there. Small things to start, like destroying some communications, or taking down some droids in the hallways (she felt bad about that at least). 

Her main job though? Find and distract Kylo Ren. Herr presence was going to be enough to grab his attention, and she only hope that her being on the shuttle wasn’t going to get them shot down. 

It hadn’t. 

If Ren had noticed her at all then he had allowed the shuttle to land. 

Or so she hoped. 

It didn’t take long, but she ran into the figure in a long hallway. The dark imposing figure in black standing at one end as she had rounded another end. Drawing her shoulders up right she stood as tall as possible, staring down at him. 

“I thought you would find me.” She called out. 

“I knew you would be looking for me.” The synthesized voice spoke flatly inn return. “Come to take my offer?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just the distraction.” She called, standing in a profile pose, as if waiting for a problem to start. 

“A distraction as your team tries to rescue the pilot.” A pause then… “The traitor. Interesting he would return here after escaping already.” 

“ _Finn_ isn’t scared of some ship and troopers.” 

“He should be.” Ren said flatly back, starting to take a few steps towards the other. “He really should be.” 

“Like I should be scared of you?” She asked, as if to defy him, she moved forward a few steps as well. 

“No. You have no reason to be scared of me.” His voice was a bit softer, and he moved further down the hall. Hands reaching up to undo the hooks on his helmet, taking it off with a hush of sound. Holding the helm in his hand he stared down at her, eyes dark but not hard. “I know what the plan is. How you and your people are here to rescue Poe. Damneron…” he corrected the name a bit too late. 

“I know that Jacen is here with you. I assume the damn droid with there as well. You’re the distraction to me, until they get the pilot back to the shuttle. Do you think it will be that easy to leave? Infiltrate and scoot out like no one would notice?” 

“Even distracting me will do nothing for them. They are hardly a match for the First Order, even if the traitor knows how to find his way around this ship.” 

Rey was closer now still, just a few feet away. “They’re stronger than you think. Just because you feel like you know the plan doesn’t mean you do. Any minute now, you’re going to feel like a fool.” 

And just as if her words were the trigger, there was an explosion that rocked the _Finilizer_ the two figures in the empty hallway moved back and forth with the shifting of the ship, then stood still, facing each other. Rey gave him a sharp smile. 

“You should come with us.” Rey said pointlessly, knowing that he’d never agree to that. 

“I can’t.” He said simply, starting to back away. “My jobs not done yet.” 

That comment felt… strange to Rey. Wrong. Odd. His smile fell and brow rose. “What do you mean? You don’t have anything here you have to do. Leave Snoke and come back with us!” 

“I can’t.” He said again, voice flat once more. The helm was pulled up and held there. “Tell my mother, my job isn’t done yet.” And then he hauled the helmet back on. A hand reached out to the surveillance system, and there was an explosion, then another, the video feed breaking down, not only here but in the data core as well. Before Rey could s ay more, Ren took off, storming the other way. 

“Kylo!” She called out loudly, then… “Ben. Please…” But Ren took off at a corner and was gone. 

On her own com link she heard Jacen speak. “We need to get going. The hanger bay is in a panic. How are you kids doing?” 

“On my way.” Rey said, turning to run, confused by her confrontation with Ren. 

“Almost there.” Finn called as well. “Rey’s explosions did the trick. No one’s giving us a second glance.” 

“That’ll change once you hit the main throw way.” 

\---

It was a battle getting out. More explosions from the shuttle in the hanger bay helped to throw more distractions in as Finn, Poe, and Beebee-ate moved to get to it. Rey told them to go on ahead, and ended up stealing a TIE-Fighter. “A present for Poe.” She had said once they were out of the ship. 

Jacen managed to slave the TIE to the shuttle and the group of them left, leaving the _Finilizer_ a smoking ship in space. Not dead, but very, very angry. 

\---

“You left with one First Order Shuttle and return with two First Order ships?” Leia said to the group of them as they started down the ramp. In the distance a gurney was hovering it’s way to them as well. 

It was obvious Leia had been waiting there for them. 

“Rey got me a gift for all my troubles!” Poe said as he hung on Finn’s shoulder and side, lifting his head and smiling at her. 

“Don’t get too excited, Dameron. You won’t be flying anything for a short time. Not until you’re back on your feet at least.” 

“Just glad to be back, Leia.” Poe said fondly, leaning heavier into Finn, head tipping a bit. The gurney came and they got him settled onto it and rushed off. 

Jacen got the shuttle and then later the TIE put into hiding, waiting after for his mother to show up with new recruits. 

Finn and Rey walked back with Leia as Poe was rushed off. 

“You did good.” Leia told the two, a hand patting Finn’s shoulder, just as Rey took her hand to hold it as they walked. She squeezed her hand back in return. “I couldn’t be more proud of what you’ve accomplished if I tried.” 

“I’m just glad we got there in time.” Finn said, and started to hop step a bit ahead of them, turning to walk backwards as he spoke. “I’m going to go on ahead and make sure he’s not fighting any nurses.” 

“That’s a good idea. Meet me this evening for debriefing, please.” Leia said and let Finn nod and run off. She felt Rey squeeze her hand a bit tighter a moment, before letting go. “You can go with him as well, you know. I know the three of you are close.” 

Rey shook her head, arms crossing under her chest as they walked. “Kylo Ren said something before we parted ways.” 

“Oh? You ran into him then?” Leia said, seeing to go stiff in the back at the name. 

“He told me to tell you that he wasn’t done with his job yet.” Rey said flatly, clear that she didn’t understand the meaning to that. “What Job do you think it is?” 

Leia’s hand ran over her mouth, her eyes distant. For a moment she felt almost faint, but she stood her ground, stopped walking and took a breath. “I see.” She spoke distantly. “Then it’s not too late.” 

“Too late?” Rey asked, brow raised. “Please, Leia. What does that mean?” 

Leia smiled off into the distance, a hand coming to her chest. “It means there is still Hope out there.” 

“There’s still Hope.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I apologize for how the end might be a bit rushed! I just really wanted to get it over and posted haha. This was the longest thing I had in my back logs and it needed to be finished fast before i sat it down again. 
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you for reading!


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